Volume One: The Youth Enters the World Chapter Sixty-Five: Defeat

“Get out of my way, I’ll deal with you later.” Fan Hun’s brows knitted together, thinking to himself that this brat at the third level of Spirit Gathering was bold enough to block his path.

“No need to wait. Let’s settle this now.” Fang Tian wanted to end the fight quickly, and so he raised his sword and lunged at Fan Hun. His attack was swift and thunderous, striking at vital points with each move, forcing Fan Hun to retreat step by step. Blood streamed from fresh wounds where Fang Tian’s blade had grazed him.

“I didn’t expect you to be more than you appeared. Pretending to be weak while hiding your true strength.” Fan Hun recognized the ferocity of Fang Tian’s assault, realizing now that the youth was far from simple and his real power exceeded the third level.

In an instant, they exchanged dozens of blows, and Fan Hun never gained the upper hand.

“Second Brother, Third Brother, go deal with Lang Qing. This kid is a handful.” Anxiety gnawed at Fan Hun as he quickly ordered his companions to eliminate Lang Qing first, so they could then gang up on Fang Tian.

The two nodded and launched themselves at Lang Qing. Daggers and hammers rained down as Lang Qing raised his blade to block, but he was no match for their combined assault. His long blade was shattered, blood burst from his lips, and he was thrown backwards, crashing into a tree with a resounding crack as the trunk split. Lang Qing lay on the ground, struggling to rise, but his old wounds together with the new ones rendered him nearly immobile. He watched the next wave of attacks approaching with powerless resignation and closed his eyes.

Time passed, but the expected blows never landed. Lang Qing slowly opened his eyes and saw Fang Tian standing before him, sword raised in defense.

“Brother, I can’t fight anymore. Don’t worry about me, just run.” Lang Qing couldn’t bear the thought of Fang Tian risking his life for him, knowing that Fang Tian had the ability to escape.

“Rest easy, big brother. Take a moment.” Fang Tian channeled his spiritual energy, repelling the two attackers and his gaze sharpened as chilling cold radiated from his body. Frost began to spread across the ground within several yards.

During the fierce battle with Fan Hun, Fang Tian noticed Lang Qing faltering. He instantly used Windstride to shield Lang Qing from harm. Now, with Lang Qing unable to continue, Fang Tian faced the three alone.

Fan Hun and his two companions spread out, forming a surrounding formation. Fang Tian and Lang Qing seemed trapped, unable to move. Fan Hun pointed his sword at them, laughing wildly.

“Boy, you almost fooled me. Lang Qing is finished. I’d like to see what you’ll do now.”

“What will I do? Settle all of you, of course.” Fang Tian snorted coldly, his spiritual energy surging violently, exuding a bone-chilling cold. Within it, a force of extreme Yin intensified the cold, sweeping towards the three.

The trio shuddered as icy chills seeped into their bones. Fan Hun cursed inwardly, his instincts screaming danger. He shouted, “Run!”

The three exchanged glances, ready to flee, but Fang Tian gave them no chance. He unleashed Windstride and whispered, “Drifting Snow, Three Slashes.”

A whirlwind erupted, and in a flash, Fang Tian’s speed left several afterimages as he attacked the three. He caught up with Fan Hun first, and his martial technique summoned a flurry of snow.

Fan Hun barely had time to raise his sword before he was frozen into an ice sculpture. The other two met the same fate, each encased in frost.

The next moment, Fang Tian stood back in his original spot, gazing coldly at the three frozen figures. After a while, he sent a surge of spiritual energy, shattering the ice sculptures, erasing all trace of Fan Hun and his companions as if they had never existed.

Lang Qing stared at the vanished enemies, then at Fang Tian, whose body still radiated piercing cold. He drew a sharp breath, shocked and awed. Fang Tian seemed like a demon god of the Netherworld—anyone who stood against him was doomed.

Fang Tian reined in the cold aura, smiled, and walked over to help Lang Qing up, channeling spiritual energy to stop his bleeding. With his injuries so severe, Fang Tian had to help him recover first.

“They’re all dealt with.”

“Brother, is this your true strength?” Lang Qing looked at Fang Tian in disbelief.

“More or less,” Fang Tian replied with a sheepish grin.

Lang Qing was speechless. Judging from Fang Tian’s tone, his real power was likely far greater. He couldn’t help but think Fang Tian was like a monster, an unfathomable abyss with no end in sight.

“You’ve saved me again. I guess I’ll never repay this debt,” Lang Qing said with a sigh.

“It’s only right. If I don’t save you, who will?”

“Haha, well said, little brother. Still, thank you for helping me avenge my grudge.”

“That’s enough. You’re badly hurt, big brother. Let’s get into town and heal you.”

“Alright.”

Half an hour later, Fang Tian and Lang Qing prepared to leave, but two figures emerged from the distance. Looking closely, it was Bai Yifan. Fang Tian thought, the fish has finally taken the bait—not a wasted trip.

Bai Yifan flicked open his folding fan, waved it a few times, and smiled, “Gentlemen, it’s been days since we last met. I’ve missed you.”

“You’re certainly persistent,” Fang Tian replied calmly.

Bai Yifan snapped his fan shut with a cold snort, his gaze fierce as he said arrogantly, “Boy, it seems you’re ready to die.”

“Is that so? You’re just a defeated foe.” Fang Tian never took Bai Yifan seriously. He’d planned to let him go, but Bai Yifan insisted on stepping forward.

“If that’s the case, you can’t blame me,” Fang Tian thought to himself.

“I only lost because I was injured last time. Dare to offend me, and today I’ll grind you and your companion to dust!” Bai Yifan snarled.

“You really do talk too much,” Fang Tian retorted.

“Hmph, Lang Qing seems badly wounded. Now it’s just you alone. How can you possibly stand against us?” Bai Yifan had no idea what had happened earlier, seeing only Fang Tian and Lang Qing. Though he felt doubt, revenge drove him to eliminate them both. He would never allow anyone to step on his pride—and as for the shattered ice nearby, he paid it no mind.

“Yifan, there’s no need for words. Let’s finish this quickly,” urged the man surnamed Guo beside him, impatient to act.

“Alright, let’s do it, Brother Guo,” Bai Yifan replied.

As soon as they decided, the two charged at Fang Tian.

Fang Tian set Lang Qing down and raised his sword to meet them. In moments, Bai Yifan and his companion wore looks of terror as they were both frozen into ice sculptures.

There was no hope for them—when Fang Tian fought seriously, their fate was sealed.

Truthfully, they felt some frustration; their boasts had barely left their lips before Fang Tian instantly defeated them. In the split second before being frozen, their eyes widened in regret, wishing they had never provoked Fang Tian.

“Trouble finally resolved.” With Bai Yifan’s defeat, the thorn in Fang Tian’s heart was removed. Even if Bai Yifan’s backers learned of his disappearance, they wouldn’t find Fang Tian for some time, giving him ample opportunity to prepare.

As Fang Tian was about to leave with Lang Qing, he noticed a jade pendant hanging from Bai Yifan’s neck. Curious, he took it. Then, with a palm strike, he shattered the ice sculptures of Bai Yifan and his companion, leaving nothing but shards on the ground.